


double shot vanilla latte

by wafflesofdoom



Series: double shot vanilla latte [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Beginnings, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 16:38:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13345200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesofdoom/pseuds/wafflesofdoom
Summary: robert had owned the grind for over two years now, buying himself a coffee shop out of his divorce settlement and turning it into one of leeds’ busiest cafes. but he’d never had a customer quite like aaron.





	double shot vanilla latte

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imgoingcrazy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imgoingcrazy/gifts).



> for malorie, because it's her birthday and i love her.

Robert had owned his cafe for two years. The Grind, he’d called it in the end, Victoria giving him nothing but stick, for that one, claiming he’d named his new venture after his new favourite app, Grindr - but Robert liked it. He’d always flirted, schmoozed his way to the top - had even done that in order to get a hefty divorce settlement, when Chrissie had found out about the affair.

Well, the  _affairs_.

But life - life was truly a grind now, a grind he enjoyed. Robert worked for his money, his success - he’d built The Grind up from nothing, taking over an old chip shop and spending three weeks in Doug’s  _fantastic_  company while they stripped out old machinery, re-plastered, painted, but he’d done it, he’d turned a run down storefront into one of Leeds’ busiest coffee shops.

He liked the decor, the most. Victoria had said it was all very hipster, but she’d been the one who’d wanted quaint pinks and yellows and a stereotypically girly teashop, but he liked the mismatch of wood, the metal, all the things that apparently made it unbearably trendy.

People liked trendy. Trendy interior, and good coffee, and The Grind had both of those things.

He’d done it on a whim, in the beginning - a kid from a working class farming background, who’d made his name in sales, going into the hospitality industry. It sounded like a recipe for disaster, really, but he’d made it work.

Victoria coming on board six months in had helped. His sister was a talented chef, and she’d been wasted on the restaurant she’d worked in, if you asked him, and when she’d lost her job, well - coming on board to turn his coffee shop venture into something profitable seemed like a good idea.

Trendy decor, good coffee, and good food -  _that_  was the recipe for success.

Wiping down the last table, Robert stood, hands on hips, surveying his kingdom, as he liked to call it.

It looked ready, for a day of students, and mums, and passersby - and the office workers, to start. Robert knew how his morning would go, he’d owned The Grind for long enough to know - come 8.15am, until 8.45am, things would be absolutely manic - stressed out, suit wearing office types coming in and demanding their americano’s would keep him occupied, making coffee after coffee while Victoria manned the till.

9.15am, brought the mums, the ones coming for a coffee and some breakfast after they dropped their kids to school. That always kept them busy, the private school mums from up the road always good for some avocado toast and a chai latte.

Then came the lull time, the time Robert would spend messing on his laptop, making new vaguely indie playlists to set as background music to his day. That was his favourite time of day, the time he could sit and drink a coffee, and plan the specials for the week, come up with new ideas for things he could do in the coffee shop.

He’d had a few local musicians come in one Saturday evening recently, and play a gig, and it had gone down so well, he was thinking of making it a monthly thing - there was always some kid with a guitar who had been dreams, willing to play a few songs in a local coffee shop for fifty quid and the promotion of it all.

Inevitably, the lunch rush would then begin, and then usually the stressed out university students would follow, and that would keep him busy until 5.45pm when he’d start the cleanup.

Before, he’d have found it boring, to have his whole day mapped out like he did, but Robert liked the routine of it all, now - it was the kingdom he’d built from scratch for himself, didn’t manipulate, or scheme his way to the top.

No, Robert smiled to himself, sliding behind the counter as the bell over the door went, signalling his first customer of the day - The Grind was all his.

“Morning,” he greeted, taking in the appearance of his early-bird customer. It was rare, really, that they had anyone in before quarter past eight, The Grind not opening early enough to catch the pre-9am workforce.

This guy was gorgeous, Robert noted - all dark messy hair, and a beard that was doing something entirely inappropriate to Robert, considering it was five past eight on a Monday morning. He was wearing a scruffy hoodie and a pair of black jeans, work boots completing his look.

He was hot. Like - really, really hot.

“Mornin’,” the stranger returned the greeting. “Can I get a regular double shot vanilla latte, please?”

“To go?”

The customer nodded, rooting for his wallet.

“And can I get your name?” Robert asked, pausing, marker in hand. He didn’t usually ask, unless it was busy, but he was curious - he wanted to put a name to the gorgeous face standing in front of him.

It was a green marker, today. Victoria had bought one of those multipacks of brightly coloured Sharpies, and Robert had turned his nose up at them, initially, but it was fun, doodling on people’s cups.

“Aaron,” he replied, squinting at the pastries. “What’s this one?”

“Chocolate croissant,” Robert said, reciting Victoria’s pasties of choice for that morning. “Gooseberry jam danish, blueberry bran muffins, and cinnamon rolls. I’d recommend the gooseberry, it’s good.”

Aaron nodded. “I’ll trust ya, then,” he said, waiting expectantly for Robert to give him a price.

“Four pounds eighty, please,” Robert said, ringing up his purchase.

Aaron handed him a five pound note, shaking off the change as he picked up his coffee, and his pastry, heading for the door. “Thanks,” he mumbled, giving Robert a sort of awkward half smile as he left the coffee shop.

Robert shoved the five pound note into the register, unable to wipe the smile from his face as he committed the new face to his memory. He got a lot of customers, some moe attractive than others, but Aaron was the first to really pique his interest in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.

Victoria teased him about it, these days - Robert’s life as the eternal bachelor, that is. He’d never gotten serious with anyone since Chrissie, hadn’t really even dated anyone, beyond a few drinks and a few rounds of sex.

He hadn’t wanted to.

Still didn’t want to, actually - but maybe he could just enjoy himself a little, if Aaron happened to come back to the cafe any time soon, could enjoy the view, so to speak. Aaron was an attractive guy, okay? And well - Robert had never been the type of man who denied himself beautiful things.

He wasn’t about to start.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was three days before Aaron came in again - not that Robert was counting, or anything. He was just the kind of person who noticed things, okay? Robert was obviously going to notice when his most attractive customer came in, it was only human.

“Morning,” he greeted, smiling at Aaron, hand on one of the takeaway cups. “What can I get you?”

“A double shot vanilla latte, please,” Aaron said, standing, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He was wearing a dark blue hoodie today, zip tied to his chin as he ordered. He looked tired, eyes heavy as he stood at the counter.

“Need the caffeine this morning?” Robert commented, scrawling Aaron’s order across the side of the mug.

Aaron nodded. “Late night,” he admitted. “Anything good on offer for food, then?” he inquired, rocking on his heels.

“I’ve got gooseberry jam danish pastries, pain au chocolat, and triple chocolate brownies, weirdly enough,” Robert said, gesturing at the display in front of him, the freshly baked goods filling the counter. “Blame my sister for that one, she’s up to all sorts in the kitchen.”

“Bit early for brownies, innit?” Aaron raised an eyebrow.

“Apparently its never too early for chocolate,” Robert quipped, messing with the coffee machine, pouring the milk into one of the stainless steel jugs he had on hand, making Aaron’s drink.

Making coffee was one of his favourite things, these days. The monotony, the methodology of it, it was therapeutic, but Robert found himself distracted by Aaron, as he busied himself making the coffee, the man engrossed in the selection of pastries on display.

“‘M starving,” he admitted, pointing out the brownie. “Might be a bit early, but they look good.”

“Sometimes you’ve got to have chocolate for breakfast,” Robert hummed, pouring the milk into the takeaway cup, grinning to himself as he formed a perfect heart in the foam. He’d gone to classes, on latte art, Victoria responding to this with nothing more than an eye-roll, but it felt like it was paying off now, Aaron smiling as Robert set his coffee down in front of him.

“Never did understand how people did that, with the milk I mean,” Aaron gestured at the heart in his cup, taking a second to admire it before he slid a lid on, making sure it was on tightly before he picked up his coffee.

“Practice makes perfect,” Robert said, putting the brownie into a bag. “Four pounds ninety, please.”

“Upping your prices?” Aaron joked, handing him a five pound note, and waving off the change again.

“Have to, in this economy,” Robert returned the laugh, watching as Aaron headed for the door, already tucking into his brownie. “See you.”

Aaron gave a little wave as he nudged open the door of the cafe with his shoulder, mouth half full of brownie as he spoke, crumbs flaking into his beard as he took a bite out of the cake. “See ya!”

Robert couldn’t wipe the smile from his face as he washed out his jug, ready for the office rush that was about to come.

“He was cute.”

Robert looked over his shoulder to see Victoria standing in the doorway of the kitchen, the white chef’s jacket she insisted on wearing (“too look professional, Robert”) a stark contrast to the purple jeans she was wearing, her blonde hair done up in twists and braids that looked like they took far too much effort, given the early morning.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Robert shrugged. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Victoria nodded, straightening the trays of baked goods, a perfectionist as always. “And Robert, you were making moon eyes at him!”

“Moon eyes?” Robert raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, am I twelve?”

“You might as well be, with how obvious your big old crush on your new favourite customer is,” Victoria grinned, perching on the edge of the counter, swinging her legs.

“I have seen him twice.”

“And yet,” Victoria smirked, making a dramatic gesture. “You’re already in love.”

Robert shook his head, laughing. “You’re full of shit, Vic,” he said, handing her one of the coffees he’d made, taking the other for himself, clinking the cups together - their little tradition, when they had a spare five minutes to have a coffee together in the mornings, before the cafe got busy.

He could never have imagined his dream career would have ended up being running a cafe with his baby sister, but it was the best reality Robert could ask for, if he was honest. He and Victoria were closer now, than they ever had been, and it was good - it was great, even if she was a little nosey.

“You should ask for his number, next time he comes in.”

“A bit presumptuous, no?”

Victoria’s grin was so wide, it was practically splitting her face in two. “So you do like him!”

“I’m speaking hypothetically,” Robert rolled his eyes, leaning back against the counter. “He’s only been in twice.”

“Yeah, twice - he came back!” Victoria exclaimed, as if it were obvious. “How many coffee shops are there on this street alone?”

“Mine is the best,” Robert mumbled in response.

“Eight,” Victoria answered her own question. “And rather than go try the other seven that aren’t here, he came back and got another coffee here. Either your coffee is that good, or you’ve got a look in, big bro.”

“My coffee is that good!” Robert protested. “Anyway, I’m not looking to date anyone, am I? So it doesn’t matter.”

Victoria raised an eyebrow, the ring on her finger and the wedding she was planning (all according to Pinterest trends) a harsh reminder of the fact he was twenty nine and divorced, and his baby sister was getting married to her childhood sweetheart in six months.

Robert would have been mad if he didn’t consider Oliver the little brother he’d never had.

(And no, Andy  _didn’t_  count.)

“Why don’t you want to date, eh?” Victoria nudged. “You split from Chrissie so long ago, Robert - it might be time for something new, someone new.”

“I’m happy being single, Vic,” Robert shook his head, the words sour as they rolled off his lips. Maybe he had been, once, but the reality of being close to thirty and being painfully single while the rest of his friends got married, and had kids - well, it was starting to cut a little deep.

But he wasn’t going to tell his little sister than at 8:17am on a Thursday morning.

“If you say so!”

“I say so, and I also say get back to work, slacker,” Robert joked, the bell over the door signalling the start of the rush, the opening of the office worker flood gates, so to speak.

Victoria mock saluted. “Yessir. But seriously, ask for his number next time.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert had thought about asking for his number, he had. He’d thought about it for all of Thursday, but when Friday morning came, and Aaron came through the door just after eight am, looking more awake than he had done the previous day, well - he’d bottled it.

What if Aaron wasn’t even into men? How awkward would that be?

No, it was best to stick to what he’d done the previous two mornings Aaron had come in - make the man his coffee, make a joke, and wave him goodbye.

Except - maybe, maybe he could have a little bit of fun.

Robert grinned, marker held to the takeaway cup as Aaron perused the selection of pastries, in Victoria’s clutches now, his sister having just set out the first bakes of the day.

It wasn’t busy enough to justify writing Aaron’s name on his cup, but - well, Robert wanted to have a little fun, didn’t he?

So he scrawled Aiden across the cup in big, looping, purple letters, finishing it off with a hastily drawn smiley face before turned his focus to actually making Aaron’s coffee, a double shot vanilla latte, as always.

“Four pounds eighty, please!” Victoria’s bright voice was a distraction as he finished up making Aaron’s coffee, placing it down in front of him as his sister put the five pound note in the till, Aaron waving off the change as always.

“Aiden?” Aaron raised an eyebrow, wearing a purple hoodie today, one of the strings hanging a little longer than the other, the end frayed, as if he chewed on it in his spare time.

Robert grinned, leaning back against the counter, happy his little bit of fun had gotten a reaction, at least. “See you later.”

Aaron returned the laugh. “See ya.”

He was barely out of the door of the cafe when Victoria smacked him in the shoulder, five foot two of furious. “I thought you were going to ask for his number!”

“I mean, you can if you’re so desperate for it, but you might want to tell Oliver first,” Robert said, moving to clean up the counter, get ready for the incoming rush. ‘I just happened to mix up his name, couldn’t get that wrong if I wanted his number, could I?”

Victoria rolled her eyes, exasperated with his behaviour - as always. “What game are you playing, Robert Sugden?”

Robert grinned. “No idea. But I think it could be fun.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You look good,” Victoria teased, hair done up in intricate braids as she carefully loaded up a batch of freshly baked croissants, the smell filling the cafe absolutely divine.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Robert said, sipping on the coffee he’d made himself, taking advantage of the quiet fifteen minute window they always had to start the day, right before the office rush began.

“You know, you could just ask him out,” Victoria said, standing, hands on hips, a dance so reminiscent of how their mother would stand in the old kitchen up at Emmerdale Farm, trying to usher them out from underneath her feet as she’d cook, or clean.

“Or you could mind your own,” Robert retorted, giving her a pointed look. “And leave me to do my job, while you do yours?”

“You’re no fun,” Victoria said, sticking her tongue out at Robert, but leaving him in peace all the same, her humming a familiar sort of background noise as she got to work getting ready for the day.

They’d branched into brunch, recently, and it kept Victoria even busier than usual.

Robert had just managed to get the special’s chalkboard finished, admiring his own neat handwriting declaring they were serving a smoked chicken and avocado sandwich special today, when Aaron arrived.

“Morning,” Robert greeted, stepping back behind the counter. “The usual?” he inquired, already fishing for one of the medium sized takeaway cups.

Aaron nodded, his blue eyes bright as he rooted in his pocket for his wallet. “I’ll have a croissant, too, please,” he said, nodding toward the freshly baked pastries on the counter.

“Chocolate or apricot?” Robert inquired, looking up from where he was making his coffee. Somewhere along the way, making coffee had become his therapy, something he enjoyed doing more than he’d ever imagined.

“Chocolate, please.”

Giving Aaron his change, Robert worked in silence, whatever indie instrumental album Victoria had stuck on filing the still thankfully quiet cafe. He enjoyed his few minutes alone with the gorgeous mechanic, okay?

“Enjoy your day,” Robert said with a bright smile, setting the coffee on the counter. “A double shot vanilla latte for Arran.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow, picking up his coffee. “How do you always remember my order, but not my name?” he asked, a smile quirking at the corners of his mouth. “Do you spell my name wrong on purpose?”

Robert returned the grin. “Maybe I need something more to remember it,” he said, enjoying the flush that rose in the mechanic’s cheeks. “Like your number.”

The mechanic grinned. “Nice try,” he said, heading for the door of the cafe, breakfast in hand.

“Not a winner, then?” Robert couldn’t even be that offended it hadn’t been an immediate yes, enjoying the game him and Aaron both seemed to be playing now, flirting over his coffee order in the mornings.

Aaron looked over his shoulder, smirking slightly. “Try again tomorrow, maybe I’ll have a different answer.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Morning,” Robert greeted Aaron as he came through the door, just past eight am, as always. “The usual?”

“Please - and one of them gooseberry pastries, if you’ve got them,” Aaron said, rooting in his pocket for a crumpled five pound note.

“You’ve been converted then?” Robert asked, already working on Aaron’s cup, marker in hand, doodling across the paper cup. For the first time, he was glad he’d gone for simple branding - their takeaway cups were plain white, with ‘The Grind’ stamped on it in black lettering, big enough that their instagram obsessed customers could give them some free promotion, and small enough that it was cheap to print.

Robert was good at the coffee business.

Aaron nodded. “Nearly came back for a second, the other day,” he admitted. “Your girlfriend is good.”

“Sister,” Robert corrected, barely holding back a snort. “People say we look like twins, mate.”

Aaron’s cheeks flushed a little. “Makes sense, I ‘pose,” he shrugged, rocking awkwardly on his heels. He seemed to have a lot of anxious ticks, Robert had noticed over the past few weeks, always fidgeting as he stood at the counter.

“She’s a brilliant chef,” Robert said, smoothly moving the conversation along. “Self taught, n’all,” he explained. “You should stop by and try our lunch menu sometime, Victoria makes the best brunch.”

Aaron’s face screwed up. “Brunch?” he didn’t sound convinced, wearing a jacket now the weather had turned, a puffy black thing that was tied to his neck, the tips of his ears still flushed red from the stark November cold that was whipping up outside the door of the cafe.

“It’s not just for hipster teenagers and bloggers, surprisingly,” Robert joked. “Just means we can serve lunch from 11am, really.”

Aaron smiled, the expression lighting up his face. “I’ll stop by some day on my lunch-break, then.”

Robert set his coffee down on the counter, taking the money from Aaron. “I’ll make sure the VIP table is ready for you,” he said, waiting for Aaron’s reaction to that morning’s doodle.

“ _Consistency is key, Albert?_ ” Aaron read aloud, raising an eyebrow.

“Consistency is a double shot vanilla latte every morning,” Robert grinned, looking up as another customer entered the shop. “I mean it about the VIP table, by the way!” he called, Aaron stepping aside to let them order.

Aaron returned the grin. “I wouldn’t want to break my routine though, would I? Consistency is key, and all that.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They were right in the midst of the lunch rush, when he noticed Aaron. The cafe was heaving, Friday’s always their busiest day for lunch, Victoria rushed off her feet as she passed out orders to the full tables.

“Wow,” Aaron commented, eyes wide as he looked around. “Should I have rang ahead and booked?” he joked.

“Fridays,” Robert said, as though that explained it all. “They’re always mad.”

“I can just get a coffee to go,” Aaron jerked his head toward the door. “I don’t want to hassle you.”

“No, I promised you the VIP treatment, didn’t I?” Robert shook his head, spotting an empty table by the window. “Go on, grab that table, I’ll come over in a second. You a fussy eater?”

Aaron shook his head. “Just hungry,” he admitted.

Robert nodded, finishing up the last two coffees in his order queue, calling out names. It was nearing 2pm, which was usually when the worst of the rush ended, so he figured he was safe to leave Victoria to man the stations - for a little while, at least.

“Vic, have you got two of something going?” Robert inquired, sticking his head into the kitchen.

“I can knock up the sandwich special, why?” Victoria looked up from the surface she was cleaning down, hair coming undone from its usual braids.

“Aaron’s here,” Robert said quietly. “I was going to have lunch with him.”

Victoria’s grin could probably be seen from outer space, if he was being honest about it. “Go on, give me a few minutes to get them sorted and I’ll take over at the counter,” she said.

“You’re the best,” Robert beamed, heading back to the counter, which was (thankfully) customer free, busying himself making coffees from him and Aaron. Maybe it was presumptuous of him, to assume Aaron would want to spend his lunch break eating with him, but he’d promised the other man the VIP treatment, and that apparently entailed eating with him.

Weaving his way through the busy crowd, Robert set the two coffees down. “Food is on it’s way,” he promised a bemused looking Aaron, not bothering to wait for a response before he headed back toward the counter, Victoria appearing with two sandwiches.

“Get his number!”

“Mind your own,” Robert replied, sticking his tongue out at her before heading back toward Aaron. “Pulled pork, homemade coleslaw, and Vic’s pride and joy, her seeded sourdough.”

Aaron gave Robert a grateful smile as he took the plate from him, barely waiting for Robert to sit down before he tucked into the food. “Not what I expected from brunch, if I’m honest,” he admitted, chewing thoughtfully. “This is really good. Your sister is well talented, mate.”

“She is,” Robert confirmed, tucking into his own sandwiches. “I make the coffee, she feeds the masses.”

“How did you end up in business together?”

“I left my old job in sales and decided to open this place up, uh - after I got divorced,” Robert said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Victoria lost her job around the same time, and it just made sense, really, her getting involved.”

“Mad, working with your sister,” Aaron hummed. “Mine is in her stroppy teenager phase, we’d never survive.”

Robert laughed. “Vic would probably argue I’m still in my stroppy teenager phase,” he joked, allowing himself the time to fully take in Aaron’s appearance, now he wasn’t looking at him from behind a counter.

He looked young, maybe twenty three or so, messy dark hair standing out at all angles, the gel he must have had in it earlier barely there now. His eyes were the brightest shade of blue Robert thought he’d ever seen, wide and  _interested_  as Robert spoke.

“How long have you owned this place, then?”

“Two years,” Robert said, slowing down now as he was halfway through his sandwich, the pulled pork monstrosity Victoria had come up with about two meals in one. “I haven’t seen you in here before though,” he pointed out cheekily.

“Take note of all your customers do ya?”

Robert grinned. “Just the ones I find interesting.”

Aaron squirmed a little, but didn’t seem uncomfortable. “I only moved back, from France,” he explained. “I lived there the past couple of years with my boyfriend - well, my ex.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.”

“I’m not,” Aaron shrugged, eating his sandwich at an alarming speed. “Some things just aren’t meant to be, I guess. Anyway, I work at the garage up the road now, only started a few weeks ago.”

“You a car man then?” Robert inquired, enjoying how he was uncovering all there was to Aaron, the gorgeous stranger who’d become one of his most regular customers over the past few weeks.

Aaron nodded. “I trained as a mechanic when I left school, been doing it one way or another ever since,” he confirmed, taking another swig of his coffee, looking infinitely more awake, and enthused than he had when he’d first walked in to the cafe.

“I was a mechanic when I left school too,” Robert said, remembering the days of working down at Windsor Motors in his hometown. “I didn’t stick with it too long, but I do still love cars.”

“What do you drive?”

“A classic Porsche, you?”

“Fiesta,” Aaron grimaced. “Didn’t come back from France with too much cash.”

“What’s the dream car, then?”

“Seven series BMW,” Aaron grinned. “It’s a beauty of a car, my uncle drives one.”

Robert hummed his agreement. “Good choice,” he said. “I used to drive an Audi R8, when I worked in sales.”

Aaron let out a low whistle. “What were you selling, weapons?”

“Agricultural machinery,” Robert pulled a face, remembering the not so fast paced world he used to work in when he was a part of White Industries. “I had a rich father-in-law,” he admitted.

“Why did it end? Sorry, thats probably super inappropriate.”

Robert shrugged his apology off. “My wife didn’t approve too much of my boyfriend,” he admitted, trying to make a joke out of it. “Turns out you have to really be committed to marriage if you don’t want to stray.”

Aaron winced. “Doesn’t sound much fun.”

“No, but now I can live my dream of being a hipster cafe owning bisexual,” Robert grinned. “Who wins here, really?”

Aaron laughed. “I think you missed your calling as an artist, mate, the stuff you draw on my cups,” he said, pushing his plate away as he finished his lunch, looking more than satisfied.

“I’m trying to convince you to give me your number, aren’t I?”

“Does it usually work for you, the cup thing?” Aaron asked, sounding as if he was genuinely curious.

“I wouldn’t know,” Robert replied. “I’ve never tried it before.”

Before their conversation could continue, Robert noticed the queue getting longer, Victoria struggling alone. “I’d best go and help her,” he said, giving Aaron an apologetic smile. “Come back at a quieter time, and I’ll give you the proper VIP treatment, yeah?”

“All for my number?”

“I’m persistent.”

“What do I owe ya, for all this?” Aaron asked, reaching for his wallet.

Robert shook his head. “It’s on me,” he said. “Just - come back, yeah? I’ve got more ideas for drawings.”

Aaron laughed, the sound like music to Robert’s ears as he gathered their empty plates. “That sounds like a fair deal.”

Robert felt as though he was walking with a spring in his step, as he made his way back around the counter, stepping in to help Victoria with the busy queue. He’d never complain about doing business, he really wouldn’t - but he’d have been grateful for five more minutes with Aaron.

He was curious about him, curious in a way that had Robert wanting  _more._

It had been a long time since he’d wanted more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was after the weekend, when Robert saw Aaron again. He hadn’t come in for his usual morning coffee, and part of Robert wondered if he’d scared Aaron off, on Friday, and he’d obsessed over everything he’d said, just in case he’d been too pushy - it had thrown him off his game, mixing up coffee orders like it was his first day on the job.

But he needn’t have worried. At 5:45pm, the bell over the door went, and Aaron stepped into the cafe, a soft smile on his face. He looked smarter, than usual, wearing a neat navy jumper, and black jeans, trendy trainers on his feet instead of his work-boots.

“You said call at a quieter time,” Aaron said, standing, hands in pockets, rocking slightly on his heels as always. “Does this work?”

Robert smiled. “Yeah, this works,” he said, immediately aware it was the end of the work day, and he felt sweaty, and gross, his hair a mess. Aaron didn’t seem to notice, siding up to the counter.

“So what does the VIP treatment usually entail?” Aaron asked.

“Well, it can start with a coffee,” Robert said. “And you can sit and entertain me while I lock up.”

“Mm, sounds fun.”

“But then - if you’re up for it - we could grab a drink somewhere,” Robert said, deciding it was now or never. He’d been pining after Aaron for so long (Victoria’s words, not his) that he had to make a real move, he just had to.

Aaron smiled, an almost bashful look on his face as he messed with the now empty tip jar on the counter. “I’d like that,” he said.

Robert returned the smile. “Good. Now, the usual to start with?”

“Am I that predictable?” Aaron winced good-naturedly.

“You know what you want,” Robert shrugged, setting about making Aaron a coffee. He’d hit his limit when it came to caffeine, that day, if he was being honest about it.

“Yeah, I think I do,” Aaron murmured, watching Robert intently as he made the coffee, his eyes never leaving Robert.

He could feel the other man’s gaze on him as he worked, and it took everything Robert had not to melt under the attention. It had been such a long time since he’d felt like this, like he really wanted someone, wanted to be near them, with them - he was getting the cliche, butterflies in his stomach sort of feeling as he set Aaron’s coffee down in front of him, pins and needles spreading across his hand as their fingers brushed.

“This is mad, this,” Aaron suddenly laughed, his coffee held halfway through his mouth. “I’m going on a date with my favourite barista.”

Robert feigned offence. “You mean you’ve been seeing other baristas?” he joked, beginning the process of shutting down the coffee machine. He’d cleaned up most of the cafe already, Victoria sorting out the kitchen before she’d left at five.

It was a Monday, he didn’t usually expect any customers past half five.

“No, you’re the only one I trust with my order,” Aaron grinned. “You don’t judge me for my sweet tooth.”

Robert laughed. “I’m not much of a coffee snob, me,” he admitted. “Sugar makes everything better.”

“Right? But if you try and order a vanilla anything in some places around here, they look at ya like you’ve murdered their dog or summat.”

“The coffee purists,” Robert mocked, stepping out from behind the counter. “I can’t judge, I’m partial to a mocha sometimes.”

“I guess we’ve got a few things in common, then,” Aaron said, leaning against the counter, clutching his mug close to his chest, the sleeves of his jumper pulled down over his hands.

“I reckon we do,” Robert said, deliberately reaching around Aaron for his phone. He didn’t exactly need it, but he wanted an excuse to get that close to Aaron, and try and gauge his reaction.

It was exactly what Robert had hoped it would be, Aaron’s breath hitching in his chest as Robert practically bracketed him against the counter, eyes wide with anticipation.

“What would you say if I said I wanted to kiss you right now?” Robert asked, voice low, barely audible over whatever playlist he had on, the music soft and lyric-less in the background.

“I’d say you were all talk and no action,” Aaron responded cheekily, tilting his chin slightly, a clear invitation.

And well - it would have been rude to say no, wouldn’t it?

Robert leaned in, and pressed his lips to Aaron’s in a soft, chaste, coffee flavoured kiss. Aaron practically melted into his embrace, their lips moving gently against each other, the chapped skin of Aaron’s lips unfamiliar, entirely new against his own.

The kiss couldn’t have lasted longer than twenty seconds, slow and chaste in a way Robert hadn’t expected, but more than enough to have him wanting more.

So, so much more.

“I’ve wanted to do that for ages,” Robert admitted, only pulling back far enough to see Aaron’s face properly.

“Me too,” Aaron admitted, chewing on the side of his lip. “Probably since the first day I saw ya, if I’m honest.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page, then,” Robert said, not bothering to wait for an answer before he kissed Aaron again, a little deeper this time, moving a hand to cup the back of Aaron’s hand, keeping him close as he moved his lips against the other mans.

Just as one of Aaron’s hands came up to fist in the material of Robert’s jumper, an almighty crash forced them apart.

Aaron had dropped his coffee.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” Aaron’s face was bright red with embarrassment as he spoke, both of them drenched in the thankfully lukewarm coffee. “I forgot I was holding it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Robert shook his head, keeping his hand on the back of Aaron’s head, even as the other man tried to move, murmuring something about cleaning it up. “Aaron, it doesn’t matter just - kiss me, okay? We can clean it up later. I just want to kiss you.”

Aaron nodded, letting the puddle of coffee and broken ceramic lie at their feet, sliding his hands around Robert’s waist, kissing him with a ferocity Robert could feel right down to his toes, Aaron’s mouth warm, and wet against his own, Aaron’s tongue pushing into his mouth.

They snogged like teenagers against the counter for what felt like an age, their lips puffy, and bruised as they broke apart, Aaron looking at him with bright, happy eyes, hands still holding tightly to Robert’s waist.

“God, you are gorgeous,” Robert mumbled, brushing a thumb against Aaron’s bottom lip. Now they’d kissed, now they’d really kissed, it had unlocked an insane want in Robert, was making him want to throw caution to the wind and have Aaron there and then, right in the middle of his own bloody cafe.

“Says you,” Aaron shook his head, brow furrowing as he looked at the state of Robert’s once pristine pale blue shirt. “I’ve ruined your shirt.”

“I don’t care.”

“My - my place is like five minutes away,” Aaron said, faltering slightly. “Is that too much? Inviting you back to my place already?”

“Depends on what for,” Robert said, still reluctant to let go of Aaron, enjoying the close contact of their bodies.

“So you can put your shirt in the wash so it doesn’t stain,” Aaron said, fingers brushing against the stained cotton material for a second before he looked up again, leaning in to press a barely there kiss to Robert’s lips. “And so we can keep doing this.”

Robert grinned. “I think that sounds just about right, honestly.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Aaron hadn’t been joking, when he’d said his place was five minutes ago. They’d quickly cleaned up the mess on the floor of the cafe, and Robert had locked up, the two of them walking in relatively comfortable silence along the high street, down one of the side streets near The Grind, Aaron pausing in front of a block of flats.

“It’s nothing special,” he said, pausing, keys in hand.

“I’m not here to judge your interior design,” Robert shook his head, laughing at Aaron’s sudden nerves before he realised they were genuine, Aaron fiddling with his keys as though he wasn’t sure what else to do to distract himself. “God, Aaron - do you even realise how long I’ve wanted you for?”

Aaron looked at him, chewing on the side of his lip again, a light flush rising in his cheeks at Robert’s words. “Yeah?”

“Yes!” Robert practically exclaimed. “Aaron - God, you coming in has been the highlight of my every morning, these past few weeks. I used to hate the days you didn’t come in, because I didn’t get to stare at your gorgeous face for a few minutes.”

Aaron smiled, looking considerably less nervous now. “Why do you think I came in so often? I think I’ve been spending most of my wages on coffee just for an excuse to see ya,” he said, turning so he could slot his keys into the lock, opening the door to his apartment building.

He turned back to look at Robert, giving him a soft smile as he reached for Robert’s hand, tugging him inside the hallway, a clear invitation. “Don’t judge me for how clean my flat isn’t,” he said, letting go of Robert’s hand, leading him up the stairs.

Robert couldn’t help but admire the view he was getting of Aaron’s arse as he followed him, awkwardly clearing his throat as he realised his staring had been noticed. “I won’t judge,” he said, the corners of his mouth quirking into a a smile. “I’ve got better things to be looking at.”

“Cheeky,” Aaron said, focus on his front door as he unlocked it, pushing it open, the hinges clearly a little stiff as he using his shoulder to open it. “I’ll uh - I’ll grab you a jumper.”

Robert nodded, watching as Aaron made his way across the small living room-kitchen, disappearing through a door at the end of a tiny hallway. His flat was nice, Robert noted - cosy in a way his wasn’t, but he supposed that was the downside of living in a modern, floor to ceiling glass kind of building. Aaron’s flat was part of an old house, he assumed, a fireplace in the corner of the living room reminding him of the farmhouse he’d grown up in.

Spotting the washing machine in the kitchen, Robert started to undo the buttons of his shirt. Coffee stained at the best of times, but he’d let it sink into the very expensive material of his shirt for well over a half an hour now, so it needed a wash if there was any chance of saving it.

“I, um - I guess this will fit you.”

Robert turned around, shirt in hand, Aaron standing in the middle of the living room, a grey jumper in hand, and a lustful expression in his eyes as he drank in Robert’s half naked appearance.

“Like what you see?” Robert teased, putting his shirt down on the kitchen counter, enjoying the attention. It had been a while since he’d been with anyone, okay? And it had been even longer since he’d been with someone he’d wanted the way he wanted Aaron, there and then, the dark haired man picking his way across the living room, Robert only now noticing the laundry basket on the kitchen table, the DVD cases haphazardly strewn across the couch.

Aaron let out a shaky breath. “God, of course - of course I do,” he said, setting the jumper down on the kitchen table, stepping a little closer to Robert, looking utterly transfixed.

“Are we moving too quickly here?” Robert asked, wanting to be sure before he, they, did anything else.

“I don’t care,” Aaron shook his head, a confident, determined look in his eyes as he placed his hands on Robert’s hips, hands warm against his bare skin. His touch felt absolutely electric, as though his fingerprints were burning into Robert’s skin - if he felt like this after a few kisses and Aaron’s hands on his waist, he was pretty sure he was going to die when they actually had sex.

“Me neither,” Robert admitted, the atmosphere between them feeling thick with excitement as they stood in the middle of Aaron’s kitchen. “I meant it, what I said you know. I’ve wanted you for so long now.”

Aaron nodded, even more determined now as he pushed Robert backward, Robert’s back hitting the kitchen counter with a tiny ‘ _oof_ ’ noise, Aaron giving him an apologetic look. “You’ve got me,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of Robert’s mouth, another to his jawline, to the pulse point on his neck.

Robert felt himself practically trembling under Aaron’s wandering hands, and decided it was about time he took back a little control, tugging on the hem of Aaron’s jumper, the younger man willingly lifting his arms up so Robert could pull it off him completely,  giving Robert his first view of the gorgeous expanse of Aaron’s chest and shoulders.

He definitely worked out, Robert decided, running his hands over the rippling muscle of Aaron’s stomach, the broad spread of his chest.

“I box,” Aaron said, eyes full of laughter as he spoke.

“Shit - did I say that out loud?” Robert couldn’t help but be embarrassed as he realised he hadn’t quite kept his thoughts to himself.

“Yes,” Aaron laughed, fingers hooked in Robert’s belt loops. “You said it out loud.”

“You’re making me crazy,” Robert grinned, hands still wandering over the defined muscles of Aaron’s upper body. “Boxing, then, eh?”

Aaron nodded. “Been doing it since I was a teenager,” he said. “Like what you see?” he echoed Robert’s earlier words, a teasing grin fixed in place on his face.

It was probably a little soon to tell Aaron about the fantasies about him holding Robert down with those gorgeous arms of his he’d developed on the spot, so Robert settled for a nod.

“Well then, are you going to stop talking and do something about how much you say you want me?” Aaron prodded, walking a few paces backward, clearly going in the direction of his bedroom.

“Is that a challenge?”

“It is if you want it to be,” Aaron grinned, clearly enjoying the back and forth teasing they were both doing now. “Or you could just come here, and kiss me.”

Kissing, kissing was a good idea.

Robert didn’t bother answering before he attached his lips to Aaron’s again, kissing him for all he was worth.

It was funny, really, Robert didn’t have any of the usual first time jitters he got even now, a long time on since his very first time. It was always strange, being with someone, having that first time with someone new, not knowing what they liked, and didn’t like, but - he didn’t feel any of that now, the bare skin of his own chest pressed to Aaron’s, Robert practically grinding against the other man as he pushed him against the doorframe, overcome by a desperate want for him.

No, he didn’t feel nervous, or jittery - Robert just felt comfortable.

He just felt like this,  _them_ , was exactly right.

 

 

 

(It probably was, really.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Robert was about to pour himself a class of orange juice the next morning, when he noticed it, noticed what he’d been too caught up in Aaron to notice the previous evening.

All the coffee mugs. The little paper cups he’d doodled on, misspellings of Aaron’s name, funny little drawings and messages - Aaron had kept them all.

“What’s taking ya so long?” Aaron asked, voice gravely and thick with sleep as he padded into the kitchen, wearing a pair of boxers slung low on his hips, the blossoming purple hickey on his neck making Robert feel more than a little possessive as he took a second to enjoy the other man’s appearance.

“You kept them,” Robert gestured to the paper cups, his voice full of wonder.

Aaron went bright red as he realised he’d been found out. “I, uh - yeah, I did,” he admitted, brushing a finger against one of the more recent ones, an overly intricate scene of two cartoon figures having coffee together Robert had definitely started long before Aaron had arrived to the coffeeshop. “Is it creepy?”

Robert shook his head. “No, I’m glad you did - I put a lot of effort into those, you know!”

Aaron smiled, gaze lingering on the coffee cups for a few seconds longer. “I loved coming in every morning and seeing what new drawing you were going to come up with, or see how you were going to misspell my name.”

“I wanted you to notice me,” Robert admitted. “I figured this was the way to go about it.”

“I noticed,” Aaron looked at him, sincerity written across every inch of his face. “I noticed from the first morning.”

Robert couldn’t help himself, leaning in and kissing Aaron, not bringing himself to be the slightest bit bothered by Aaron’s morning breath as they embraced. It was funny, really, how comfortable Robert felt with him, even after one night.

(He couldn’t wait to see what all the others would bring.)

“I guess we both win, then,” Robert smirked, pulling away from Aaron, happiness feeling like it was the only thing rushing through his veins, there and then. He’d fallen for the grumpy mechanic the day he’d walked through the front door of The Grind, and he’d been falling ever since, every new day, every same old coffee order making Robert want him more.

Aaron returned the smile, wrapping his arms around Robert’s waist. “I guess we do.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“A double shot vanilla latte for Albert?” Robert called out with a grin, setting the coffee cup down in front of his boyfriend, who simply rolled his eyes in response - just like he always did, these days, Robert committed to the stupid things he would draw on the side of his cup now.

It didn’t matter that they were coming up on six months together now - Robert still wanted to win his favourite customer over.

“I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” Aaron asked, tucking his paper bag of breakfast under one arm, his hair long enough now that it was falling over his forehead, the dark curls and scruffy beard a mouth-watering combination that was all Robert’s.

All Robert’s,  _always_.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Robert confirmed, leaning over the counter to press a kiss to Aaron’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Aaron replied, squinting at his mug. “Is this us?” he asked, finger jabbing against the drawing of two cartoon figures lying on deckchairs, a bright yellow sun shining above them.

“Two weeks and we’re going to be on holidays in Greece,” Robert grinned, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s cheek. “Don’t work too hard.”

Aaron laughed, taking a sip of his sugary coffee before he replied. “Do I ever?”

Robert watched him leave, the inevitable office rush about to begin - you could set your watch by Aaron’s visits to The Grind, his boyfriend prone to rolling out of bed just before his shift, long after Robert had left to open up, stopping by for a kiss and breakfast.

It was part of his daily routine now.

Come 8.15am, until 8.45am, things would be absolutely manic - stressed out, suit wearing office types coming in and demanding their americano’s would keep him occupied, making coffee after coffee while Victoria manned the till.

9.15am, brought the mums, the ones coming for a coffee and some breakfast after they dropped their kids to school. That always kept them busy, the private school mums from up the road always good for some avocado toast and a chai latte.

Then came the lull time, the time Robert would spend messing on his laptop, making new vaguely indie playlists to set as background music to his day. That was his favourite time of day, the time he could sit and drink a coffee, and plan the specials for the week, come up with new ideas for things he could do in the coffee shop.

But 8:05am was Robert’s favourite time of the day - the time Aaron had always, would always come in, and order a double shot vanilla latte, gaining himself a kiss and a side order of the entirety of Robert’s heart somewhere along the way.

Robert grinned, as he turned to serve his second customer of the day, Aaron  _always_ the first.

The Grind was good.

 

 

 

 

**fin**


End file.
